Broken
by Dorku No Renkinjutsushi
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.
1. Not All Hurts

Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 1 of Unknown...

AN: Hallo! 'Broken' started as something to keep my hands busy at the beach, and it ended up becoming a hugely drawn out thing. But I've had fun writing it, so far, and it just keeps getting better.  
Background notes: Broken starts about a year after the timeskip. A lot of the beginning is spent in flashbacks, however. Every story needs back-story, ne? If you ever get confused, please just raise your hand and a flight attendant will assist you email me at I will respond to that email and try to clarify it in the post.  
Have fun!  
-cc

* * *

_Naruto_ is the property of Kishimoto Masashi. Kishimoto-sensei, I promise to return them in (mostly) one piece!

* * *

**Broken  
Chapter One: Not All Hurts**

Every ninja breaks. It is a fact of life in a village like Konoha. It is a very rare day when there isn't a single admittance to the Konoha hospital for something shinobi-related. There are injuries from people having nightmares and injuring loved ones. There are injuries that are self-inflicted, unwittingly or in full command of their mental powers. There are injuries from trying to prevent this. There are people admitted for going catatonic. There are people who just snap and go crazy, and who are safest under a med-nin's sharp eye.

Then, there are the ones who just…break.

They are the ones who just fall apart at the seams, like the glue holding them together has disappeared, has been washed away in a tide of red. They are the ones who just stop. Stop fighting, stop crying, stop hurting, stop thinking, stop living. It's almost as if though they're frozen in time, afraid to leave wherever they are. And usually, wherever they are isn't a very nice place to be.

Every ninja breaks at some point or another. The hospital has special wards, set apart within the psychiatric ward itself, especially for the ninja who have broken. There, dedicated med-nin heal their physical wounds. They even try their best to heal the mental. Tsunade has warned them not to feel it inside them when they cannot heal it. There are some things, some injuries that run too deep, that heal too slowly, that are just too old and picked over and scabbed and picked over again. Some things will never heal.

It is the way of the med-nin to understand this.

They take it to heart and bury it, doing their best to forget they know this fact, even as they cling to it in the night, when it's dark and cold, and all their failures come rushing in at them. It's little wonder that med-nin can survive and be human (well, as human as nin get, anyway) after struggling through fourteen hour shifts. It is a wonder that they remain so human in appearance after the fourteen hour shifts where every second is a fight for someone's life, someone who shouldn't have been injured in the first place but they were and you're a med-nin so it's your job to fix them up and put them to rights and if you cannot…

It's little wonder that many nin (the ones like Kakashi and Iruka and Genma and Raidou and Anko and Kurenai and Tsunade) sit back and thank the gods for the med-nin and their tireless sacrifices. Without them, there wouldn't be a miraculous replacement of a man's eye. There wouldn't be the story of that time when a mother rushed her tiny child in because a trip wire had sliced straight through his face. There wouldn't be a training course specially designed after that time that one genin came in with his team, a whole set of senbon stuck straight through his face, trapping his mouth half-open. There wouldn't be legends about that one chuunin whose team accidentally set him on fire, covering him in third-degree burns—they still talk about how he shouldn't have survived the hour. And so many other stories and legends and skills would be missing.

But still, there were some hurts the med-nin couldn't heal.

This, clearly, was one of them.

Iruka slammed the cabinet shut, forcing himself away from his less-than-cheerful thoughts as he downed the set of pills he had been ordered to take on a strict regimen. The med-nin had all warned him that the chemicals in them needed to be built up, and to be eased off slowly, both to be done only under the strict supervision of a trained medical professional with morals (which ruled out Kabuto, not that Iruka would have asked him for Prozac or whatever he was on now, anyway). Needless to say, just not taking those nasty horse pills those poor, lazy excuses for wash-out torturers forced upon him was not an option.

Damn.

He choked the pills down, muttered nasty imprecations on all who worked in the medical field, and went to bed.

The night that proceeded was, while uneventful, not one most people looked forward to. The assortment of pills he took included several specially designed pills for exhausted shinobi—a way to sleep without ever losing that constant vigilance. These pills did help with the constant insomnia. Tsunade had insisted they be thrown into the mix after he passed out in the middle of her office one morning after going a whole two weeks without sleep. He required a week in the hospital to recuperate.

So, at least he slept. But really, what Iruka had tried to avoid so frequently by staying awake was the nightmares that came when he lapsed into unconsciousness. No, a nightmare wasn't really the right term. More like, memories. Only memories that had been twisted and turned and utterly corrupted, even the good ones. And those were few and far between to begin with.

* * *

TBC...  
will be continued soon. I'm just revising chapter two, and then I'll chuck it here. As a note, I need a beta. Anyone willing to play? 


	2. A Successful Mission

Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 2 of Unknown...

AN: Hallo! 'Broken' started as something to keep my hands busy at the beach, and it ended up becoming a hugely drawn out thing. But I've had fun writing it, so far, and it just keeps getting better.  
Background notes: Broken starts about a year after the timeskip. A lot of the beginning is spent in flashbacks, however. Every story needs back-story, ne? If you ever get confused, please just raise your hand and a flight attendant will assist you email me at I will respond to that email and try to clarify it in the post.  
Have fun!  
-cc  
AN pt 2: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! A shout out to Sasuke's Teme for betaing this lot and Chidori-ing its sorry arse into shape.  
WARNINGS: For this chapter, we hit a bit of the rough-and-rocky when it comes to drawing the line for warnings. Memories are vagued out (is that even a term?) but yes, it does suggest to non-con and other horrible stuff. But I'm nice (or evil, depending on how you're viewing this) and am saving all detailed non-con and shouta for later.  
There's a fairly decent amount of this built on knowing geisha's history. See AN at the bottom for more historical boringness on my part. Till then, enjoy!  
-cc

* * *

_Naruto_ is the property of Kishimoto Masashi. Kishimoto-sensei, I promise to return them in (mostly) one piece!

* * *

**Broken  
Part 2: A Successful Mission

* * *

**

Iruka spent the night tossing and turning, trapped in a world of his own dark imaginings. First there were the standard bad dreams about his students. It was the standard fare of injuries, drowning, murders, ANBU selections, and the omnipresent Itachi-style Clan Killies. Those were followed by dreams of his genin days. They started with that first mission gone to hell.

--------------------------------------

_'This is Panther. Repeat, this is Panther.' _

'This is Wolf. Wolf is in position.'

'Tiger is go.'

'Ready, kiddies? Panther, get your ass out there!'

And, like the obedient fool he was, he had gone. Had gone trippingly in those nine-inch wooden stilts, those metre long layers of silk, with those ridiculous hair ornaments obscuring his view. He had gone slowly, carefully, deliberately, hating the fact that his jounin-sensei was smiling and laughing and pretending this was easy, pretending he was a girl and that he was in training to be a geisha.

_'Awful young to be walking streets, isn't she?' _

'Oh, Kishimoto-kun,' and a laugh_. 'She isn't walking the streets! We are geisha! Kai-chan isn't nearly as young as she looks. Why, tonight is her debut!' _

'Debuting at her age? How soon does her bidding start?'

'Oh, soon enough, soon enough. Kai-chan is destined for great things.' A quick glare. _'Pour the tea and sake, Kai-chan.' _

'Hai, onee-san.'

And none of the drunken fools—not a one—had noticed the powder that swept into those cups. A geisha's sleeve was useful, apparently. He passed the tea and sake out, being careful not to jump too much when one of the dirty bastards pinched his ass. And then, later…it had all gone to hell.

_'Hello, pretty.' _

'Gomen nasai, Nabungo-san, but I must go!'

'Oh, pretty, don't leave me. I just want to make you feel loved.'

'Na-nabungo-san! What are you doing?'

'Making you feel loved. Every girl should feel loved on her debut.'

Leering. Groping. Struggling. Snatching.

Suddenly, layers of heavy silk falling away.

Struggling harder.

Cold hands. Reaching, reaching, clutching cold hands.

_'What's this?'_

Whimpered sobs, futile struggling.

_'Pretty-chan isn't a girl? Well, well. This is interesting.'_

A leer. A gasp. A swift rustle of silk.

And it was all over. Nabungo-san, a Yakuza leader, was dead. Iruka's kunai still protruded from his ribs, glinting fiercely from where it held his dying body pinned to the wall.

A soft thump as he began to run. Soon, a steady pattern of them. He ran without thought, without idea or plan. His panicked feet brought him to the heart of the red light district—the pleasure district. One kind street walker took pity on the clearly lost geisha-child and brought him to a sheltered area, gave him a few coins for food. And then a soft futon, and a dreamless sleep.

That was where Hasukawa-sensei found him the next morning. Wordlessly, she brought him back to their group. Wordlessly, she brought him to the ANBU field director. Kicking and screaming, she brought him to the med-nin. They were silent as they examined him. Wordlessly, they all went home.

A successful mission. Nine men dead. Only one of their own injured—and in a purely mental way. He would heal. A successful mission.

------------------

Then came all the other remembrances. The infamous Ouzashi mission (the one he narrowly escaped. He still carries the scar as proof.). The Hawasuke mission (the one where he was raped at the stunning age of 11.). The Emberedin mission (the one where he lost his virginity to the mark. Still only 11.). The Ashi mission (the one widely regarded as a bad move, what with the death toll.). That first mission to Sand (definitely a bad idea, seeing as they had a new teammate on the ANBU squad to replace Uchimasu.). The first mission to Grass (the one where his teammate—Asuka—lost her left leg).

And then the chuunin exams. They had to travel all the way out to Hidden Sand for those, and the deaths of Uchimasu Masashi and Eliki Anousa were still fresh in everyone's minds. Particularly Iruka's, as they had been killed right in front of him, sacrificing themselves so that he could get the information he carried to Hasukawa-sensei. The trip was long, dangerous, and silent except for the arguing of the other genin. Team Hasukawa (made up of the one-legged Asuka, the deaf-mute Arutobo, and the silent, depressed Iruka) stayed quiet, kept to themselves, and occasionally threw nasty looks at the other genin. Hasukawa was proud of her team, if a little worried.

An attack had come when they least expected it (like attacks always do). Arutobo was on guard, and the jounin-sensei on guard (for they only teamed Arutobo with someone from Team Hasukawa or a jounin, because that way they could communicate with hand kanji) never caught her panicked hand signs. She finally gave up and tossed a glittering but blunt kunai straight at Iruka's head. It hit him, hard, on the shoulder as he dodged instinctively.

He sat bolt upright as a nin came racing past, glittering powder spraying out of a bag he carried. Cursing, he stood up and began shaking his team-mate and fellow genin. Of the genin present around the fire, only Asuka could be woken, seeing as she—like Iruka—had learned the hard way to sleep with something over her mouth and nose. Hasukawa-sensei seemed to find it a great joke to dust them all lightly with nausea powders, or headache powders. Part of it taught them perseverance (working through the agony). Part of it taught them medical skills (how to re-hydrate and field-cure yourself). Part of it just plain taught thinking ahead.

As more nin attacked, Iruka found himself suddenly perversely glad that they had the one woman known internationally as the most sadistic human alive.

'Cause after her training, even enemy nin attacking at 1.30 in the morning was just another day at the office.

* * *

TBC 

AN: There ya go. Yes, I know, a lot of this is fanon. I had a bit too much fun writing it, though, so it's staying. .

Notes About Geisha:  
Geisha were, contrary to popular belief, _not_ streetwalkers. They were entertainers and artists. A geisha's primary purpose was to entertain and serve tea and sake. Yes, a girl's virginity was auctioned off to make her full geisha, but they were sold at the highest prices possible.  
As you see above, Hasukawa-sensei serves as Iruka's onee-san, his geisha guide, if you will. Older, more experienced geisha would take the new girls under their wing, making them maiko (sp?) and teaching them the ropes.  
After a maiko's debut, the guide (usually referred to as onee-san) would decide when was best to begin the auction for the girl's virginty.  
The entire geisha-house (I'm not even gonna _try_ to spell it) would be in on this, and the girls frequently competed over who could be sold for the most.  
(/boringexplanation)  
Hope you enjoyed!


	3. A Marvelous Trick

Hey! Next Broken installment! And notice that I've got it mapped out as to how many parts this is! Go Creepy!

Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 3 of (tentatively) 20

AN: Hello again, y'all. More notes'll be at the bottom. Please enjoy and remember: just as a story-attendant for assistance if you get lost, forget why you are here, or are incapable of normal speech.

* * *

_Naruto_ is the property of Kishimoto-sensei. I promise to return the boys in (mostly) one piece!

* * *

**Broken  
Part 3: A Marvelous Trick**

The fight continued for what felt like forever. All the jounin-sensei (and the ANBU squad accompanying the genin) fought their way over to the young charges as quickly as they could. While they fought their way in, Arutobo, Iruka, Asuka, and the jounin who had been on guard with Arutobo all did their best to come up with a way out. The jounin protected Asuka as she began mixing the powders she carried in her pockets to make the one that would, hopefully, reawaken their comrades. Iruka and Arutobo did their best to fight off and deflect any attacks.

Arutobo shot Iruka a look. He understood and nodded, changing his stance slightly to cover her. With a grateful smile, she began removing the braces around her legs. She quickly had them removed, balancing on her one leg as the metal supports that had formed her left were taken away. With a quick flash of hands, Iruka pulled up enough dirt that she could manipulate it.

"Thanks, Iru-kun!" she called. Then, another flash of hands and, "Iwa no Kage Bunshin no jutsu!"

The jounin guarding Asuka whistled appreciatively as the dirt formed itself into several clones of Arutobo. The last amount of dirt—enough for half an Arutobo—was redirected into the empty shape of the braces, where she bound it tightly with chakra. Sliding her eyes closed, Arutobo brought her hands in front of her face as they flickered through set of hand seals.

"Kage Kugutsu no Jutsu!" she screamed. The puppet she had been making suddenly arose, and she began directing its movements. As she wove her way deeper and deeper into the chakra webs, Iruka began to cover her, deflecting as many kunai and shuriken as he could, blocking attacks with a strong Shield Jutsu, and generally protecting his teammate from any harm that could come from her attack pattern.

It was a losing fight, however. Strong and trained as they all were, they were only three genin and a minor jounin against attacking enemy nin who had to be chuunin at the very least. Arutobo's Shadow of Stone clones were viciously taking care of as many of the attackers as they could reach, but their existence meant she was draining chakra at an alarming rate. That meant she had to sink into the chakra webs in the clearing itself to control her Shadow Puppet, which withdrew her totally from the real-world. Add that to the fact that Iruka was guarding her and the jounin was guarding Asuka, and there wasn't a very pleasant outlook.

A kunai came whistling in to land in the fire. The jounin looked up as it flew in, mentally tracking its path. He smiled slightly. "Kid!" he yelled to Iruka. "They're coming for us. Hang in there, ok?"

Iruka nodded his understanding. He hadn't at first understood why the jounin were camping separately from the genin, but someone had explained it to him as a safety feature in the event of an attack. The chuunin were camped elsewhere, and the four-man ANBU squad travelling with them was somewhere else, as well. Throughout the entire trip, the only times the groups had interacted was when they were actually on the move, and even then they were broken up into three groups. The composition of those three groups was constantly changing, with ANBU members grabbing some of the genin and poofing in and out with transportation jutsu.

If the jounin and chuunin were close enough that they could throw the kunai straight into the fire, then this would soon be over. Of course, by the time Iruka realised this fact, the enemy nin had realised it too and were redoubling their attack.

Iruka looked around and realised they were completely surrounded. There was no way for the other Konoha nin to get in to help them! The enemy nin, however, were constantly tightening the circle and drawing closer to them. There was only one option, now. Iruka took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hands beginning a set of seals.

_Rat. Dog. Ox. Dog. Sheep. Ox. Ox._

Another deep breath.

"SUNA NO UMI NO JUTSU!" Iruka roared.

The ground shook beneath their feet, and Iruka sent what chakra he could spare (admittedly, it wasn't very much) to his feet and braced himself for what looked to be the most interesting ride of his life. This far from any lakes or oceans, sand would probably be difficult to find, which meant the jutsu was probably calling on something underground or was transporting it from far away. He prepared himself for what was going to be an intense drain on his chakra reserves.

The rumbling was getting closer now, close enough that Iruka could begin to feel the heat that the jutsu generated. He hurled a line of kunai into the dirt at his feet, and sand began to pour out into the still night air, rising up and grouping as he began to weave his chakra around it. The black mass slowly grew until it blanked out the entire moon, and most of the stars as well. Then, just as soon as Iruka felt he couldn't hold the sand any longer, he threw it to earth, letting it wash in a liquid-like manner over the ground below.

There was screaming as the nin were caught in the wave of hot, hot sand. Iruka smirked sadistically as he held the sand down tightly, hastening the asphyxiation of anyone trapped by his little trick. The heat of the sand also helped by lowering the amount of usable air, and by winding the opponents even more as it hit.

Even as the screams of dying men filled the clearing, Iruka saw the world around him going dark. And then it was slipping, slipping, gone.

TBC

AN: So...let's see...there are...counts on fingers...3 newly invented jutsu in here! So. Let's start from the first, shall we?  
**Iwa no Kage Bunshin no Jutsu:** Shadow of Stone Clone Technique. Used to create realistic, substantial clones using what is available (dirt), thereby lessening the strain on the user's chakra. InK Bunshin can be used as clones or as puppets.  
**Kage Kugutsu no Jutsu:** Shadow Puppet Technique. Used in conjunction with Iwa no Kage, this allows the user to control one of their Stone-Shadow clones like a puppet. Also can be used to mould and control Shadows into puppets, but this requires more chakra control and a large chakra pool to draw from.  
**Suna no Umi no Jutsu:** Sea of Sand Technique. This technique draws sand from any available place and pulls it through holes in the earth that the user has created. It allows the user to control the sand and lets it flow like a liquid, rather than as a solid. It also heats it up, which aids in winding and suffocating.

Ok...so...review, please?

PS: Anyone who lives in Georgia, is in high school, and takes a Foreign Language:  
There's Foreign Language Association of Georgia (FLAG) competition on March 4th at Marietta High. I will be there wearing the dorky 'F.L.A.G. STAFF' 'Frage mich/Roge me/Demandez-moi/Preguntame' Tshirt. It'd be cool to see fellow KakaIru fans there! Plus, it's something to do rather than twiddle my thumbs. Which is what I'll be doing. I can promise you that.


	4. Interrogatives

**_fic Broken (4/20)_**  
Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 4 of (tentatively) 20

**

* * *

Broken  
Chapter 4: Interrogatives**

When Iruka came to, a medically trained chuunin was standing over him. She smiled and helped him to his feet.

"That was a seriously cool bit of ninjutsu," she said, smiling at him. "Pity it wipes you out."

Iruka smiled back. "It works better near lakes, or beaches," he explained. "Easier to get the sand, you see."

She smiled again and went to help the others in waking the other genin. Iruka watched her for a bit, still trying to gather enough strength to actually start moving in a human fashion. As he watched, two tall men seized the one person who had been taken prisoner. As they dragged him to his feet and into the dark woods, Iruka followed. He knew no one would notice him missing in the tangle of people, and, in the event anyone did, he had the perfect excuse.

_'Oh, but sensei!' Pause for some watery puppy-eyes. 'I had to go to the bathroom!'_

It had worked hundreds of times on his other sensei. Hasukawa-sensei was, sadly, a little too quick on the uptake—and on knowing him—for it to work, but it should work on the others. Iruka had the famous (or infamous, really, it depended on who you were asking) Umino baby-face.

He crept into the shadows, watching the two men ahead of him.

They soon found a place that suited their needs perfectly. One man, the man with the long, dark-honey hair, tied the prisoner to a tree with wire. The other was pulling out long, slimy-looking kunai. Iruka recognised them as the ones that Hasukawa-sensei had had Asuka making for all the ANBU teams to use in interrogations. Covered in slow-acting, extremely painful chakra-responsive poisons, they were some of the most dangerous things the young medical genius had been able to create.

"Genma," the man holding the kunai whispered. "Catch!"

The other man (the one with the dark-honey hair) flung two senbon into a t. Two poisoned kunai thudded to a rest against the crossbar, the second senbon straight through the rings on the end. Iruka would have gasped if it hadn't meant giving away his position. That took talent…and lots of it!

Genma lazily pulled the kunai from the senbon, glaring at the other man. "Raidou," he grumbled, "do you _like_ tormenting me?"

"Yes," the other man grunted.

Genma glared sourly. "Sadist," he declared before turning back to face the firmly tied nin. "So," he purred wickedly. "What's your name, huh?"

The nin glared the other direction and refused to open his mouth.

Genma sniggered. "Not a talker, eh? Well, we'll just have to work on that." He grabbed one of the man's fingers. "You probably know as well as I do that if I snap your finger right here, you'll never be able to hold a weapon again. You'll be useless." He tightened his grip slightly. "What's your name?"

"Mein Name ist Obasi," the man grated out hoarsely.

Raidou sighed. "Well, that answers where he's from. He's speaking one of the Wave dialects." He sighed again, then turned to where Iruka hid in the undergrowth. "Kid, I know you're there. Come out. We need someone who speaks Wave."

Iruka slunk out from under the bush slowly. He looked between the two men, then back to the man tied to the tree. Heaving a tiny sigh, he looked to Genma. "I'm Umino Iruka. What do you need to know?"

Genma grinned. "Good boy. You get the information we need, we'll maybe not tell your jounin sensei that you were following us." He smirked at the look on Iruka's face. "You know basic information gathering skills, correct?"

Iruka shot him an extremely sour look. "Duh. I _am_ a member of Team Hasukawa."

Raidou laughed. "I knew I recognised you for more than your dad's face. Ok, kid, get us name, age, village, why he's attacking, all that jazz." He looked to Genma. "Genma'll persuade him. You're just here as the voice, got it?"

Iruka nodded. "His name's Obasi."

"Good. Let's get started, then," Genma grinned. "Ask age and where he's from."

Iruka sighed and faced the man. "Wie alt bist du?" he demanded roughly. The man glared, and Iruka glared back. "Wie alt bist du?"

The man mumbled something angrily. Iruka's eyes narrowed and he caught the man's chin, drawing it up so that they were eye-to-eye. "Wie alt bist du?"

"Tell him what I'm going to do to his fingers," Genma growled.

Iruka rattled it off quickly. The nin tied to the tree grunted. Genma snarled and snapped a finger. It made a sound like a gunshot, and the man screamed loudly. Iruka looked to Raidou, who nodded. First joint for maximum pain and maximum damage to the hands.

"Achtsehn Jahre!" the man screamed. "Ich bin achtsehn Jahre alt!"

"Und wo wohnt du?" Iruka demanded.

The man glared again. Iruka rolled his eyes and nodded to Genma, who lifted a poisoned kunai. Iruka explained quickly, in no uncertain terms, what that kunai would do, depending on the length of the scratch Genma chose to give. The man looked at it uneasily for a few moments before spitting out and an answer.

"He's eighteen and lives in Chublaki," Iruka told Raidou, never moving his eyes from the prisoner's face.

"Chublaki?" asked Raidou. "Where in the nine hells is that?"

"It's a small town on the edge of Hidden Mist's borders," Iruka said. "My dad was born there." He turned back to the prisoner and began the true interrogation. "/Why did you attack/"

"/Not saying nothing/" the man grunted.

"/My friend here/" Iruka snarled, indicating Genma, "/can snap your bones with the ease of a woman making dinner. And those kunai? I watched the poisons as they were tested. We tested them on prisoners, and it was amazing. The one on the left will make your skin bubble and burn and melt away, leaving thousands of raw nerve endings. I spilled some on my finger, and the only reason I'm still here is because it was my teammate who invented the damn stuff and she had a cure for it. But I think I'll let you see what it's like./" He took one of the kunai from Genma, gripping it gingerly by the ring. "/Are you ready, Herr Obasi/"

The man watched, cringing, as Iruka lowered the kunai to his skin. He held it a mere centimetre above the man's wrist, looking up into his eyes. He smirked and slowly, slowly, oh-so slowly brought it towards the thin skin of the inner wrist.

"/No! Please/" the man screamed.

Iruka stopped the blade's descent. "/Oh…you're willing to talk now/"

"/Yes, yes/" the man sobbed brokenly. "/Just please don't…don't…/"

Iruka sighed dramatically, lifting the blade a fraction of a centimetre. It wasn't much, but the move conveyed a slight amount of mercy and a willingness to listen…for now.

The tied nin broke down into chest heaving sobs. "/We…we were sent by Unguriki/" he began. His tale took a while to tell, but Iruka stayed harsh, stayed sharp throughout the entire thing, relaying it to the waiting jounin as quickly as it was told to him.

"That's good, Iruka-kun," Genma said finally, half an hour from the beginning of the interrogation. "We've got what we need." He smiled down at the short boy. "Head back to the fire. If anyone asks, say Raidou grabbed you to explain what each different kunai does, ok?"

Iruka nodded and jogged off. He knew that Shiranui-san (he'd finally been able to recognise the man) was trying to save him a little of innocence, but kind as the action was, it came much too late. Still, he was grateful for the man's kind thought. As he ran, he heard Shiranui-san talking to the other man, Raidou.

"Jeesh, Rai. No kid that young should know interrogation tactics that well."

"Genma, he's on _the_ Hasukawa's team. She's the one who wrote the book on intelligence missions. The kid's probably interrogated more people than you and I put together," the other man rumbled.

Genma grunted, the sound almost lost to Iruka's ears.

"Still, no kid should know that many interrogatives."

* * *

TBC

AN: Thanks to everyone's comments on the last chapter! School's been eating me alive, sorry, I've got an essay due on Samuel Alito...  
Let's see...hmm...ah! The Wave language I'm using is German. More of Iruka's family story concerning Wave will be explained later, but suffice to say it's where his parents are from and he grew up speaking the language just as frequently as he spoke the Fire dialects.  
Um...the 'oh sensei' part did not catch my attention as porny until the lovely waketomorrow (my beta) caught it while eating lunch the other day, and very nearly sprayed soda all over. However, both wt and I decided to leave it, because we're uncloseted pervs and you just _know_ Iruka is, too.


	5. Explain

Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 5 of (tentatively) 20

**

* * *

Broken  
Chapter 5: Explain**

Iruka sat around the fire, letting Asuka fuss over the tiny scratch in his arm. Arutobo, too, sat near the fire. She was holding some of Iruka's spare bandages over a bleeding cut on her forehead. The green fluid that dripped from the bandages—a makeshift poultice, courtesy of Asuka's older sister—stained her face a rather sickly shade. Her wolfish grin betrayed her true feelings, however. Iruka couldn't help but smile when faced with his teammates' visible joy over having gotten to fight. If he let himself admit it, he had rather enjoyed the fight, too. No one had been seriously injured, and he had gotten to kick some ass _and_ prove that Team Hasukawa was definitely the strongest team in Konoha.

_'All done!'_ Asuka signed, smiling. _'Come on. Let's find out where Sensei is, ok?'_

Iruka and Arutobo stood up, following the short girl silently. Team Hasukawa had always had that sort of relationship—whoever felt like it was the leader, as long as they hadn't been assigned 'ranks' and Hasukawa-sensei wasn't there. She laughingly referred to what they did as 'playing nicely and sharing' but they knew that she saw it differently.

In truth, Hasukawa Ame _did_ see her genin team's ability to work that well and surrender and assume control as more important than just sharing. She knew well—too well—what would face them as soon as they passed the chuunin exams. It was no secret to her that Arutobo's ability to lead the team would work just as well as Iruka's ability to surrender control to someone else. In the years she had had her hands on the team of three, she had managed to beat more pride into Asuka, and knock some of it out of Arutobo. All Iruka needed was the occasional ego stroke, and the occasional knock off a high horse. All in all, the team worked well.

'_Come on,_', Asuka signed. '_I think I see some jounin up ahead._'

"Yeah, it's Abishi-sensei," Arutobo said suddenly, signing as she spoke.

"Why is Abishi-sensei here?" Iruka asked suddenly, blinking.

"Something about scouting talent or another," Arutobo muttered dismissively. "The Academy got a sub for him for this whole time. I don't think he's been in the main contingent, though."

Iruka shrugged and grabbed her wrists, helping her over a particularly large gap in the trees. They continued on their way, racing from treetop to treetop towards the fire.

'_Wait!_' Asuka signed suddenly. '_What's going on up there?_'

Arutobo clambered across the treetops to crouch next to her deaf-mute teammate. "It's…" she murmured, peering closer.

"Likkle genin," one of the jounin near the fire chuckled. "Come on down. We won't hurt you."

Wordlessly, Team Hasukawa climbed down from the trees. They assembled into a clump at the base of the trees, looking between the jounin distrustfully. Three pairs of dark eyes darted around quickly, looking for the teacher they respected and loved.

"Sie es nicht hier," Iruka hissed. He knew that most jounin and chuunin didn't speak Wave. A few years back, they had been at war with Leaf. It was during that time period that the Uminos had left their old home in Chublaki to come live in Konoha. Yondaime had granted them asylum from the war, and, after a few months, had even let them become ninja of Konoha. Iruka knew full well, however, that had both he and his parents not worn the Exile Scar across their noses, they wouldn't have been accepted.

"Wo ist sie?" Arutobo demanded of him.

"Ich weiβe nicht," Iruka answered. "Du fragst."

"Ass-sucker," Arutobo snorted to him, turning to the jounin. "Where's Hasukawa-sensei?"

"It's the little Wave boy," one of the jounin hissed to his companion. "Son of traitors. Little bastard." He looked around at the other genin. "It's a whole team of 'em. Not a single kid is a Leaf. Bastards. But that little Wave boy…his parents ran out on their village. They deserved to be eaten by Kyuubi, bastard-boy," he spat.

Iruka bristled. Beside him, he felt more than saw Arutobo bristling as well. Asuka's hand was suspiciously close to her pouch of poisons. Glaring at her, Iruka waved her hand down.

"Manaki-san," he said quietly, "my parents had been married for two years when I was born." He raised dark eyes to the man, an angry fire burning behind their dark depths. "I do believe that excludes me from the definition of 'bastard'."

The man flushed angrily. "You listen here, you little brat," he snarled.

"No," a sharp voice cut in. "You listen, Otomaru. Your family was accepted here just as easily as Umino-kun's. And Sensei had even less reason for trusting _your_ family." The man speaking stepped out from the trees carefully. "Those who live in glass houses should think before they cast stones, Otomaru."

Iruka's saviour wore a bone white mask. The pattern of swirls identified it as a tiger. Iruka noted that his mother had most likely painted the pattern's design—it had the right style. The man wearing the mask had pale silver hair, and skin that was ghostly pale. He reached up and removed the mask, and Iruka realised just _who_ the man was.

The pale face that was revealed was young—almost as young as Iruka himself. A dark mask covered the bottom half of his face, hiding his expression from view. One eye was covered by a drooping hitai-ate, and the other was a pale blue. The tags on his ANBU vest marked him as a squad commander. Shadows shifted over the mask, and Iruka was fairly certain that he was smiling.

'_Ha—Hatake Kakashi!_' Asuka signed, fingers fumbling on the first shape in her surprise.

"Er kommt mit?" Arutobo asked Iruka, blinking. "Aber…ich denke..."

Iruka shrugged. "ANBU-san," he murmured, bowing. Behind him, Arutobo and Asuka did the same belatedly.

The man nodded to them. "I believe you were looking for Ame?"

"Yes, sir," Iruka said, not meeting the man's eyes.

"Come along, then," he said. "Might as well get what you came for, eh?" he asked rhetorically, leading them through the group of jounin and chuunin. "What're your names?" he added suddenly.

"Huh? Oh, um, I'm Tasuki Arutobo," the girl murmured quietly. "That's Ryuto Asuka, and that's Umino Iruka. Together, we're Cell Two…Team Hasukawa."

"How old are you?" the man asked.

"I'm thirteen," Iruka said. "Arutobo's fourteen, and Asuka turns fourteen tomorrow."

"Iruka graduated early," Arutobo added. "We graduated in 596, but Sensei needed an undercover team, so we all pretended to fail exams and officially graduated in 597. On time for Iruka, but late for us two."

The man nodded. "I graduated in 587," he whispered. "I was five."

'_You're only seventeen!_' Asuka signed.

The man nodded. '_Turned seventeen four weeks ago,_' he signed. '_How old did you think I was?_'

"28, at the least," Arutobo snorted. "You're a squad commander, you work in vice, and you've been in ANBU long enough to have a mask painted by Iruka's mother—I recognise the craftsmanship."

Iruka laughed slightly. "Kaa-san made that especially for him," he chuckled. "She had to make one that would fit his smaller face. Then, later, she had to make another modified one."

"One that would fit over my hitai-ate," Kakashi remembered. "Your mother was a nice woman, Umino-kun." The shadows played over the mask once more. Slowly, though, the maybe-smile slid off his face, replaced by a blank look. "How much do you know about the fight?"

"'Scuse me?" asked Arutobo.

"How much do you about the fight?" Kakashi repeated.

"It was a group from Chublaki," Iruka murmured. "They were sent to assassinate 'the Panther and his spawn,' or something like that."

Kakashi sighed. "Come on," he breathed, leading them into the medical tent.

There, on a futon guarded by three ANBU, lay Hasukawa-sensei. Tubes were taped all over her face, and a set of hastily-rigged IV tubes were curled around a kunai thrust into the tree used to support the tent. Asuka gasped and dropped to her knees next to their injured teacher, hands flashing nervously.

Iruka and Arutobo crouched next to her. Arutobo lay a hand on their worried teammate, pulling her around to face her. Quickly, her hands ran through the shapes of _'Don't worry. Calm down.'_

Asuka looked up at her friend, dark eyes watery. _'But, but…_' she signed.

'_Calma, calma,_' Iruka signed. He rubbed gently at Asuka's shoulders, doing his best to calm her as the ANBU stared at her raging chakra. '_She'll be fine. She's Hasukawa-sensei._'

'_'Sides,_' Arutobo added impishly, '_I have the feeling that that ANBU squad is gonna piss itself if you don't pull some of your chakra back._' Her wicked smile only served to make her statement seem even more entertained.

Asuka blinked, looking around her. A small smile spread across her face as she noticed the terrified looks of the ANBU team. Three hands were close to kunai pouches, and Kakashi's hand was gently stroking his wakizashi.

Most nin weren't used to working with the Ryuto family bloodline, as most of Asuka's generation had chosen to remain civilian. They still went to school with the proto-genin, though, because they had to be trained to restrain their chakra.

The Ryuto family had the largest stores of pure chakra in the entirety of the nin world. This was due to the fact that, upon birth, every family member was sealed to spirit animals. Depending on the animal they were sealed to, they lost some 'necessary' sense or function. Still, the animal held that sense or function for them, and served as the ultimate form of summons. The Ryuto Summons were the gods of their animal clans, and as such required none of the user's chakra, just a sacrifice in the form of some ability.

Asuka had been sealed to wyverns, hence her lost hearing and voice. Wyverns were regarded as legends by most people, and so no one bothered to guard against them anymore. The legless-dragon creatures were highly useful, having hearing so sensitive that Asuka usually wasted more chakra blocking their hearing during fights than anything else. They also had the voices of demons and demi-gods. One call could liquefy a man's brain, and another bring hope to suffering allies. It all depended on the training one had and the summoner's intents. In the first few months as a team, Team Hasukawa had spent their days at the Ryuto family complex, learning how to work with the wyvern and how to communicate with Asuka.

As the green lightning-flashes began to retreat back under her skin, Asuka's face began to grow more calm. Slowly, bit by bit, the raw power that had been her inheritance crept back into her, and the ANBU relaxed. Finally, only her skin crackled with the vibrant power, hair dancing slightly under its strength. She raised glowing-green eyes to the ANBU team.

'_Explain,_' she signed firmly.


	6. Red Skies At Night

Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 6 of (tentatively) 20

Broken  
Part 6: Red Skies At Night

* * *

Iruka sat up in bed, panting. Noticing that his hand was fisted in his mouth, he gently brought it down to his lap. The taste of blood filling his mouth, Iruka grabbed the bandages on his bedside table—left by Kakashi as he prepared to leave three weeks ago—and began to weave them over the deep bite marks in his milk-tea skin.

"Owie, owie, owie," he whispered, wincing. The bandaging done, he let his hands flicker through the familiar signs for a numbing jutsu. Cool relief settled around his skin, utter numbness spreading in its wake. He ended it just outside the bandaging, so as to retain the majority of his sensitivity. That done, he turned to look at the clock.

"Zwei?" he mumbled. "Verdammt." Iruka flopped back against his pillows, sighing heavily.

He'd get no more sleep, he knew. After dreams of his team, he could never sleep again. Tsunade had said it was because that whole time had been a pivotal point in his life, but he just regarded the whole thing as hell. As far as Iruka saw it, he was lucky that part of his genin training had been sleeping in still silence, even through nightmares. Hence the fist in his mouth.

The only downside was that should he have nightmares near someone else, no one would wake him, if only because they didn't know he was dreaming. It had led to some rather stressful missions, but then he'd dropped his qualifications and started teaching. Now, it just led to stressful classes, which were a lot less nerve-wracking. (And that was only because really, the kids weren't honest-to-gods trying to kill, maim, and/or severely injure him, it just happened to happen that way. And that was a lot less stressful than people who were honest-to-gods trying with all their well-trained might to kill, maim, and/or severely injure him, though preferably the former.)

Iruka sighed again and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. If it was two in the morning on a Saturday, he had to be at the mission desk by seven AM, at the latest. The earliest he was allowed to arrive was three AM.

"Kakashi hat dass ist es Hell Week gesagt," he mumbled to his fish as he swung his legs out of bed. He stretched, joints popping obscenely. He yawned hugely, popping his neck again.

"They'll be glad to see me at the mission desk, French Fry," he said to the little goldfish. "After all, it's Hell Week again. And they're always glad to have extra hands during Hell Week."

As he dressed, he began thinking about and bracing himself for the types of missions he would be handing out and receiving.

Hell Week was, he decided, appropriately named. It was the one week a year when people all decided they wanted assassinations, right then. And since some of them didn't particularly want to work through legitimate channels, the missing-nin were out in droves. Subsequently, higher-level nin spent the week—and the two surrounding it—working their asses off.

Iruka knew that what he would be seeing was going to be tired, pained, disturbed jounin. Chuunin applying for jounin rank would return, ghost-faced. ANBU would return with comrades' tags around their necks, and comrades' masks (or what was left of them) tied to their belts. He knew he'd be taking the locations of undestroyed bodies, and then sending teams to go deal with them. He'd be seeing the faces of men who had to use acid-jutsu on friends, lovers, children, and family, all in the interest of saving the world. He was sure to spend part of this week over by the Casualty Map, marking out where who was killed, who killed them, what they killed them with, why they killed them, and when.

Oh yeah.

Hell Week was definitely appropriately named.

--

"Good morning," Iruka sighed, entering the mission room. The four nin of the night shift (4 times the normal) all looked up, eyes red-rimmed. As one, they blinked at the chuunin.

"Coffee," one of them yelped hoarsely. He dove around the desk and grabbed one of the hot beverages out of the tray Iruka had. The others soon followed, choosing quick caffeination over manners. Iruka, smirking behind his own coffee, sat down behind the desk.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Genma murmured, his desperate need for caffeine assuaged for the moment. He looked across at Iruka. "You're here early, kid."

Iruka snorted half-heartedly. "Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. He blinked, then turned to the jounin. "You're here late. Your shift ended at ten…"

Genma shot him a look. "Couldn't sleep," he responded pointedly.

Iruka chuckled tiredly. "Raidou's in Squad Three, isn't he?"

"Damn straight," the jounin grumped. "You gonna finish that coffee?"

Iruka handed it to him. "I don't need any more caffeine, anyway," he murmured. "Have you heard anything?"

Genma shook his head sadly. Iruka sighed, steeling his backbone. "Well," he said lightly, "I suppose I'll help you, seeing as I'm here this early." He pulled a stack of scrolls in front of him, brush dipping into the jar of ink before anyone could say anything.

It was, Iruka reflected, probably a good thing that not many people returned that night. The nightshifts were always neophytes, and it was pathetic to see the relief on their faces as Iruka and Genma steadily worked their way through the paperwork. When the one chuunin who came in entered the room, Iruka took one look at his face and sent the chuunin on his left for water and the one on his right for hot tea. Genma had the final chuunin in the workroom, filing papers, and Iruka pulled a chair up for the tired man.

"Herr Ogden," he murmured. "Wie geht's?"

"Like hell," the old man sighed. "Glad they've only got me on runner duty." He gratefully accepted the water from the young blonde chuunin. "We need a retrieval squad sent to Oscere."

"Will do," Iruka promised. "Any chance you can tell me what team was at Oscere?"

"Raidou's was within four kilometres," Genma answered quickly.

"Squad Three," Ogden nodded. "The Hare, the Ox, and the Lamb were all fine, last I was there. They really just need a team for the Monkey and the Dog. Lamb didn't want those two carried out, and they're all running real low. I woulda brought someone back with me, but I'm forty-three. I'm running low, meself." He laughed dryly. "Thanks for the water, boy. You'll be sending that team?"

Iruka nodded, watching Genma out of the corner of his eye. "I'll have a team there in no time," he promised. Acting on his words, he opened the desk and pulled out the keys to the falconry. Nodding to the nin, he quickly made his exit, slipping into the dark morning.

He quickly raced along the steps to the falconry, grabbing a few treats for the message sparrows as he did so. He slipped in carefully, allowing his eyes to adjust to the warm gloom of the small attic.

A few birds chirped at him sleepily. He smiled apologetically at them, then turned to a cage labelled with a large red F sign. He drew one of the birds, fresh for a long flight, out of the cage and let it have some of the millet in his hand. Gently, he tied a note to its feet. After repeating the process with three more birds, he took them all to the ledge and hurled them into the air.

Iruka looked into the darkly dawning sky. The horizon was covered by thick, heavy clouds, and the sun looked like it would be rising red or grey.

"With a red sky at night, it's a shinobi's delight," an old man grumbled, hobbling up behind Iruka.

* * *

Ack! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update this! The next part will be arriving in a day, two at the most, I swear. Then…I need to find the notebook I have this all written out in…ack. 


	7. Sparrows

Title: Broken  
Genre: angst? Yeah, angst works...  
Characters: Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi (well, duh, look at my ship.) A few OCs, but they don't do anything but get killed spectacularly. Like Barbies with Cherry Bombs. smiiiiiiiile  
Summary: Breaking is a fact of ninja life. Sometimes, though, it hurts a little more than it should. KakaIruKashi. Fluffy angst and sad romance.  
Status: WIP...Part 7 of (tentatively) 20

* * *

**Broken  
Part 7: Sparrows**

The man turned, blinking at the old man. He sighed and turned back to the sunrise-to-be. "Good morning, Arutobo." He blinked. "But please don't finish that thought."

The woman chuckled lightly as she slid back into her own form. "Good morning, Iruka-kun," she laughed. "What are you doing up so early?"

Iruka didn't answer his hyperactive teammate. She sighed and walked closer, metal toes clicking lightly on pavement. Her hand slid over his back, rubbing in gentle circles. Iruka was forcefully reminded that she had done the smart thing before any of them had thought to do it, and demoted herself to a chuunin.

"Probably something close to the same thing you're doing," he retorted.

Her bark of laughter split the thick air. "Waiting for that overgrown child of yours, eh? How's Hatake-san doing, anyway?"

"No clue," Iruka sighed. "Haven't seen nor heard neither hide nor tail of the man in three weeks. How are Otri and Kouga doing?"

She sighed. "Otri's got a fever, Kouga's on a mission, and I'm stuck trying to house-train an Inuzuka dog while its sire is on a mission and its master is sick. I'm ready to kill something."

Iruka smiled humourlessly, sighing as he stared back at the sky. "I'm working the desk," he said finally. "I'll have to talk to you later." He turned to go, heading towards the stairs.

Arutobo caught his wrist, snagging him before he could leave. "Iruka-kun," she whispered. "Don't be afraid to turn to us, if you need to." She turned her dark eyes on his face, searching it carefully. "You dream about her, don't you?" she asked. "You dream of Sensei, right?"

Trapped in her watery gaze, Iruka bit his lip. He nodded, ducking his own head slightly. "Yes," he confessed. "I still dream of Sensei."

"Especially in weather like this, I don't doubt," Arutobo sighed, sitting with a boneless grace on the concrete. "Join me, Iruka-kun."

Iruka sat down. For a long time, he refused to meet her eyes. He shifted, looked the other direction, sighed, and fidgeted. Through it all, Arutobo waited, calm and steady. She was, after all, the mother of an Inuzuka. Iruka finally settled down and looked at her from under his bangs.

"Do…do you think we did the right thing?" he asked. "When we quit ANBU, I mean."

Her face softened. "Hatake's ANBU again, isn't he?" she asked, though it was more statement than question. At Iruka's soft nod, she sighed. "Iruka, we quit ANBU because we all agreed that it was doing us no good. Too many memories of Sensei, too much war, too much death… Iruka, we were only fourteen, and you were only thirteen. You shouldn't have even known about half the stuff you did on a daily basis.

"We were thrown into something we weren't ready for, Iruka. They pulled us straight from the chuunin exams and tossed us into jounin, then hurled us into ANBU, before anyone could blink, even. Next thing you know, they had you in the field, with Asuka as an op, and me as a handler. We may have been the Dream Team, but even we weren't ready for that."

Iruka looked at her. "Weren't we? Remember, Tobo, the first thing Sensei said? She said we'd been chosen to be ANBU as soon as they could make us that. She said we would grow up to be the most infamous spies Konoha had ever seen…the most infamous spies the entire _world_ had ever seen, even. Were we not raised for that job?"

Arutobo sighed again, running a hand through her hair. "Iruka, we were chuunin for _fifteen days_ before we started ANBU. _Fifteen days_. We weren't old enough to buy alcohol—had to be sixteen for that, if we were nin—weren't old enough to count as a vote in our clans—had to be fifteen and nin for that—weren't old enough to even fucking get a summer job, unless we babysat." She clutched Iruka's face between her hands.

"Iruka, do you not understand? We were given about six days to mourn the death of the woman who saved us, and then we were hurled into her world—told to replace her, essentially. You lost your virginity when you were _eleven_, Iruka. You were a whore at _eleven_. By the time you were thirteen, you had killed ninety-eight people, saved six hundred and twenty nine lives, and destroyed countless others. You could drink most of ANBU under the table—we all could, alcohol resistance was part of our training. You spent your fourteenth birthday in detox and rehab for a narcotics addiction because the med nin on your squad didn't watch building up your resistance properly.

"You spent your thirteenth birthday on the biggest, nastiest battlefield of the biggest, nastiest war yet, held together by a lot of silk thread and tape. Most of the nin present that day are either dead of old age or suicide. You spent your twelfth birthday learning the art of warfare, and underhanded spying. Your fifteenth birthday was spent undercover in Wave. You were later evacuated from there after your position became 'compromised'—read, the ANBU squad that hauled your ass out hauled it out soaked in blood, and they had to fight their way out. You spent eight weeks in rehab."

She looked at Iruka. "You're asking me if we did the right thing?"

He sighed, looking at her unblinkingly. "You have absolutely no idea if we did the right thing, do you," he whispered. "You still wonder if maybe more people might have survived if we had stayed, if more people would be more normal if we hadn't tried to save ourselves."

She sighed. "Yes. I do wonder that still. Nevertheless…we have to remember, we weren't sane when we went in there. We'd probably have gone Uchiha, had we stayed much longer." She chuckled dryly. There was no amusement in the sound. "At the very least, we would have ended up as fucked in the head as that lover of yours."

Iruka, too, laughed. "Are we not already, 'Tobo? Are we not already?"  
----  
Kakashi looked at the sky. Fuck, the sun would be rising soon. He needed to find a new hiding spot, and he needed to find it soon. Beside him, he could hear the gentle, metallic chime of Raidou's dog tags as the man's heart thudded in his chest. A tiny prod of chakra produced an equally tiny response of chakra, an 'all clear' sign that they both understood. Sharing a look, they made a break from under the thick undergrowth.

Overhead, a tiny sparrow raced, wings dark against the sun, dawning red and clear.


End file.
